


Do You Surrender? (From The Memories You Run From)

by GlitteryGreySweater (AnonymousPseud)



Series: Bad Blood Inspired Fics [13]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec is only mentioned, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, If I Can Triple Tag That This Is Angst I Will, M/M, Memories, Reminiscing, Sad, Sad Ending, Songfic, THE FEELS IS OVERWHELMING, This Is Just Sad For Me, only a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPseud/pseuds/GlitteryGreySweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hoped for a response, but he knew that there will be nothing. He knew that he was left alone with only memories of his true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Surrender? (From The Memories You Run From)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for not posting lately. I have become too busy with my school work. 
> 
> Anyway, this one is inspired by These Streets by: Bastille
> 
> This is just sad. But I do hope you like it. Bu the way, some parts here came from the written works of Cassandra Clare.
> 
> I'll be editing this later on. The moment I am not in my phone, I will edit this.

Magnus was nearly, nearly about to snap. He was stressed out about looking like his usual self, yet doing it in a limited amount of time. He knew that it was impossible, since you can't look fabulous when you're time-bounded. Especially when you're Magnus Bane. To simply state the situation, he was late. He can't be late. It was bad for his reputation as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. If you have a bad reputation, it's going to be bad for business (unless your business requires you to have one, which is sometimes handy for the warlock). But, to tell you the truth, it was actually his fault on why he was running late.

It was his stupid decision on letting his new conquest, a vampire, stay the night after the events that occurred between the two of them. Though, in retrospect, he couldn't really give away the opportunity for morning sex, especially when it's with a handsome stranger. He would really blame himself if it wasn't even partially the fault of that vamp. If he hadn't turn his alarm off and made the warlock wake up on time, he would still be in Magnus' apartment, safe in the shady confines of his bedroom, and not walking back to Hotel Dumort in broad daylight and Magnus himself would not be late for his appointment. But he did, in which the warlock threw a huge hissy fit about. He kicked his recent bedmate out of his apartment in pure anger. He even considered on cursing his damned soul (as Raphael Santiago often puts it), but unfortunately he forgot the lucky bastard's name. The moment the vampire with the forgotten name was gone, he quickly put himself into work.

Magnus, seeing how late he already was, stepped immediately under the shower head, enduring the cold water trickling down his hair and skin. As he washed the grime of yesterday off his body, he remembers a certain someone who enjoys these types of showers, which didn't help with the kinks he had in his shoulders and back. That made the warlock shake his head in frustration.

"You can't think about him, Bane. You swore that you wouldn't." He said to himself, words slightly muffled by the water.

But now, instead of forgetting about him, he's thinking about him more and more. Alexander Gideon Lightwood; his scarred alabaster skin; his long mussed jet-black hair; his muscularly lean figure; his striking sapphire eyes; his bright smile; his adorable blush; his melodic voice; his favorite graying sweater; his everything. He cursed under his breath for letting his train of thought wander to something he didn't want to be reminded of. He just needed to prepare for his appointment without any interruptions, whatsoever. Especially from a pretty blue-eyed Shadowhunter.

After he was done with his shower, he skidded on the wooden floors towards his walk-in closet. If he was going to be late, he should be fashionably late. He looked into it carefully, looking for the perfect outfit. As he searched through his wide variety of clothing, he found a black v-neck with 'Blink if you want me' written in sequins. Memories flooded, yet again, his mind. It was the very same shirt the warlock wore when Alec had asked him out on a date, and the one he lent to the younger man on the exact date. It was one of their firsts; not the best firsts, but a first, nonetheless. He pulled onto the wet strands of his locks, pleading to his brain to cooperate. He looked at his wall clock, seeing again the time. He quickened his pace after the first glance. He finally picked out something; a slightly loose cerulean dress shirt with only the last few buttons closed under a white blazer paired with his white skinny jeans and dark blue shoes with neon green laces. Then he went on with painting his magnificent face.

While he was carefully putting on his eyeliner, another memory hit him like a gust of wind. It was one of the nights when the blue-eyed teen fell asleep on his couch. Magnus, being the devious warlock that he is, secretly applied a decent (well, for him) amount of make-up on the young Shadowhunter as he was in his slumber. The boy had no idea that his face was caked with cosmetics until he had reached the Institute. At first, obviously there was tension the next day, but after the whole apologizing bit, it became a good laugh for the both of them. The memory made the corners of Magnus' lips quirk while he was applying his cherry-flavored lipgloss.

By the time he was finished preparing himself, he snapped the things he needed in making a portal. While he was slowly drawing the runes on his floorboards (because no one really likes a faulty portal), he remembers a memory of the young Nephilim yet again. He remembers the night when Alec got attacked by a Greater Demon while they were at the Fray's household. The Children of the Angel were lucky that the warlock was available that time. And even if he wasn't, he'll make time for the injured Shadowhunter (he always does and always will).

When he arrived, the boy was lying on a hospital bed in the infirmary, body all pale and lifeless. Magnus used up all the power and energy he had just to give the Shadowhunter another chance to live. It was nice to know that all of his efforts were not in vain. The following day was both priceless and disappointing. The warlock had awoken from his uncomfortable slumber on a small plastic chair. He noticed that his hand was intertwined with the Shadowhunter. He knew that he should be disgusted and mortified about it, but he wasn't. It was a nice feeling as if their hands were meant to be like that. But he knew that he had to leave, even if he didn't want to. He stood up and stretched a little. Then he looked down at Alec for the last time that day and kissed him on his forehead. As he was walking away, he had no idea that the Nephilim was actually awake with his eyes closed.

Alec was the one who narrated that last part to Magnus. It made the memory so much better than before. When he was finished in creating a portal, he took a step back and pictured in his mind on where he wanted to be. The moment that was done, he stepped right through it. As he was teleporting, he felt a little uneasy, which was normal for him. He never actually got used to teleporting.

The portal led him to a cemetery in New York. The atmosphere was heavy and dreary as always though it was still morning. Even if he went here once a week, he still feels queasy. He shook his head, letting that feeling subside for a moment before he continued on with his journey.

He then wove through the various graves and tombstones with engraved names he does not know, searching for a specific one. As he searched for the tree where it was placed, he saw a bouquet of flowers on one of the graves. That's when he realized that he had forgotten something. He snapped his fingers and, in mid-air, appeared a bouquet of pink carnations. When he spotted the said tree, he quickened his pace.

When Magnus arrived, he was out of breath. From where he was, there stood only one tombstone with an angel carved from the same material at the head. The stone was slightly deteriorated and ivy and moss grew on it. Engraved on it was a name he hated seeing on a tombstone; Alexander Gideon Lightwood. The warlock bit on his lip, willing for his tears to not shed themselves. It was useless to cry. It's been a year now. Today was Alec's death anniversary to be exact. He placed the bouquet on top of the tomb. Then he slid to the ground, his back against the tomb.

"Sorry that I'm late, darling. You know me, always busy." Magnus tried to joke, but it sounded bitter even to his ears.

He looked up at the sky, wanting to distract himself a little. The sky was blue, no dark clouds covering its brightness. His fingers were caressing on the moss that grew underneath him.

"I was with a vampire last night. Are you happy that I'm moving on, Alec?" He asked, but his question drifted with the autumn breeze.

He now looked down as if what he was about to say might disappoint his beloved angel in heaven. It was as if he didn't deserve to look at the magnificent blue skies of New York.

"But you know that I can't move on from you, Alexander. No matter how many times I try, by the end of the day, you're the one that fills my mind. Nobody else can replace you. I know that you want me to continue on with my life as if I never met you, but I just couldn't. The memories of you are still etched in my mind and I wouldn't change it.

"I know that you want me to forget about you, but the memories keep on haunting me. Every time I'm about to let you slip away from my mind, an old memory comes back. It's impossible for me to forget about you, Alexander. I just love you too much."

Magnus now stood up, his hand idly caressing the tomb of his beloved. He looked down on it, pain within those cat-like eyes.

"I love you, Alexander." He repeated

He hoped for a response, but he knew that there will be nothing. He knew that he was left alone with only memories of his true love.

**Author's Note:**

> I have changed the bouquet Magnus brought to Alec's grave. Instead of irises, I changed it to pink carnations, which means, based on what I have witnessed in the internet, "I will never forget you"
> 
> Kudos, comments, recommendations, requests and etc. are highly appreciated.


End file.
